


even though it’s been so long it brings me back (right back to you)

by echoesofstardust



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, I just rewatched their walk of fame speech, angsty nostalgia, in some way shape or form, mostly Scott Moir waxing poetic about Tessa Virtue, no one can tell me he doesn't love her, sappy reflections
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 01:03:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16863307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoesofstardust/pseuds/echoesofstardust
Summary: He feels so lucky to be able to look into Tessa’s eyes.





	even though it’s been so long it brings me back (right back to you)

He feels so lucky to be able to look into Tessa’s eyes. 

It’s been years since they stood on the podium at Pyeongchang, years since that golden year where they finally achieved everything they had ever wanted to achieve in their sport. Still, he will never tire of looking at that shade of green, gorgeous green. That shade of green that never fails to glint as she teases and laughs, that never fails to darken in focus and concentration, that never fails to brighten when she’s presented with chocolate or coffee or peonies.

He looks at her now. Pride swells in his chest. He loves her, is the thing. More than he’ll ever be able to describe. More than she’ll ever be able to know.

He guesses other people might comment on the additional lines that crinkle around her eyes, but all he sees is the little girl who took his hand all those decades ago with the too-huge mittens and an even bigger laugh.

He loves her so much. He swipes away a tear that’s gathered at the corner of his eye. Happy tears, he tells himself.

Tessa’s gaze fixes on him then. He smiles at her. 

“I’m so proud of you, you know that? All you’ve ever accomplished.” he murmurs.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and giggles bashfully, “It’s still weird when people say that, you know? I like to think I’ve worked hard for everything I’ve ever achieved, and I know I can’t have done anything I have without the support of the people I love.”

She looks at him.

He wants to raise her hand to the highest rooftops. Even after all this time, she’s still so incredibly humble. He loves her for it. He places his hand on his chest, over his heart, feels the affection and appreciation and respect for the woman in front of him that must be overflowing.

When he ends his mental litany of how much he loves her, he realises that she had continued to speak, mentioning the inspiration of her new athleisure line, how she thought the cool tones and hues from the scenery of Lake Huron would be perfect for her new designs. She talks about how she needs the right fabric to make sure it is effective for athletes in all types of sport. Her passion for her projects now is still the same intensity from when they were still competitive figure skaters. She speaks with her hands and her eyes shine bright.

Again, he feels so lucky to be able to look into that shade of green, gorgeous green.

“What are you going to do next, Tess? Aren’t you going to take a break? You need to rest, too, kiddo.” Scott says, in the quietness of the bedroom.

Tessa pauses for a while, tilting her neck in thought. Scott traces the exposed paleness, thinking of how often he nuzzled his face there. “There’s some plans in the work, definitely. But there’s still a while before anything’s set in stone. I probably do need to take a breather for a while. It was pretty time-consuming getting this last line out at the best standard that it could possibly be.”

(He finds out later that her big plans was for a not-for-profit that aimed to provide support for young girls in sport. He knows it’s because of what she had to go through as a young female athlete. He wishes he could have protected her better then.

It reminds him that Tessa’s real beauty is the kindness she has. Her selflessness continues to astound him. He loves, loves, loves her for that.)

He looks into her eyes, that shade of green, gorgeous green. For a moment, it overwhelms him, the beauty and deepness and intelligence of her gaze. He closes his eyes. When he opens them again, a soft smile is playing at the corner of her lips.

He reminisces about the more-than-two-decades’ worth of time with Tessa. Every rink, every podium, every costume, every loss, every win, every kiss-and-cry. Every drive together, every meal cooked together (well, mostly cooked by him, but shared with each other), every morning coffee, every box of Timbits split between the two of them, every Moir family gathering that she’s there. Every smile, every touch, every kiss.

There’s so much pain and sadness and miscommunication, but also so much triumph and joy and laughter. And love, so much love. He loves her so, so much.

He looks back at Tessa, reaching out for her.

He touches the laptop screen, fingertips grazing the image of Tessa’s cheek as she’s answering the interviewers’ questions. There’s a part of his chest, slightly to the left, that throbs painfully for moment. It falls back to the constant ache, the same ache that he’s lived with since he made his biggest mistake.

Some nights, if he wants to torture himself, he’ll revisit that conversation they had back in 2018, where all she had asked, he realised that now, was a little bit of time, but he hadn’t given it to her.

She’d never begrudged him for it, not outwardly or verbally. Instead, she accepted it with her media smile and a soft nod of the head. She’d gone on to pursue all her dreams, with sponsorships and appearances and fashion lines.

(He doesn’t know that she’ll never achieve her greatest dream. The one with a white dress and rings, picket fences and spontaneous kitchen dances, laughter in their bed, children of her own. The dream where she had all this with the only man who’d ever held her heart.)

He looks around his bedroom, the side of the bed that’s always empty.

Tessa’s thanking the interviewers for allowing her to showcase her latest collection. As the interview concludes, she playfully blows the camera a kiss.

Once upon a time, he would have caught it in his hand, tucked it into his heart.

Not now.

Her kisses aren’t for him anymore.

 

_I hope you find the storm that you’ve been chasing._

_Hope your eyes are still full of dreams_

**Author's Note:**

> sorry_not_sorry.mp3
> 
> title is from '21 Summer' by Brothers Osborne


End file.
